DESPERATE  MEASURES

PART TWENTY-ONE:

Maximus walked slowly back to his cave, not really paying attention to the waves he

had to force his way through to get around the rocky headland to his little cove.  He

walked, unseeing, through the area of tall, rough columns, heading for the far back

of the cave where he lay upon the little shelf that served him as a bed.  Breathing

quickly, shallowly, he felt as though he had just been beaten and needed time to recover.

Time. He almost laughed. What meaning did time have for him now? Time had passed

for him very slowly on the island, the hours dripping sweatily one into the next, each

much the same, so much that it was hard to find places to mark them.

But...now. Now he knew that he was completely out of his own time. He could feel his

brain struggling with the knowledge, trying to get some grip on it that he could

understand, but his fingers kept slipping off and everything was just one huge lump

of fog. He folded his arms over his face, an aloneness like he'd never known enveloping

him. How could he be out of his time? Was such a thing...possible? But this Sid, he

had access to things far beyond Maximus' ken. He remembered how the wall of the

palace had opened up, the things he'd seen, things that made no sense to him. A
wagon that could...fly?

Sitting up, he stared toward the distant doorway of the cave, then rose and began to

pace restlessly. Picking up a coconut from atop his large pile, he shifted it from hand

to hand as he paced, finally stopping, looking at the stones that seemed like flowers

that had frozen into rock. His thumb rubbed back and forth over the coconut. Flowers

that were not flowers. Time that was not time. A roar rose up his core, found verbal

expression as his face contorted and he flung the coconut at the flowers, smashing it to

small bits.

Night was coming on. He needed more information. Now that the door had been

opened a crack by Sid, he had to see all that lay within. Sid was probably back at

the shelter with Brianna. Damn! He didn't want to deal with the two of them together.
Perhaps, though, if he stayed in the area, he might be able to get Sid alone at
some point.

Walking out onto his little cove, he studied the sea for a few minutes. The moon
hung low over the water, huge, almost round. It was the only thing he was familiar
with in this place...that moon. Lifting both hands, he cupped them loosely about
its shape, then brought his fingers together as though he could contain it. Of
course he couldn't, and his hands fell limply to his sides. The moon was just as
elusive as everything else.

Rounding the headland, his foot slipped on a wet rock and he fell, waves washing
over him, trying to pull him out to sea. For one brief moment he felt as he had
when he'd arrived in Zucchabar, desolate beyond all need to fight for life. He
relaxed his muscles, letting the wave take him. How easy it was. Then his own
voice came to him and he heard himself talking to a young, discouraged soldier

far from home. "Nothing that is worth fighting for comes easily. Life is hard and

what we value most requires the hardest fight. Hold on, son, and never give up,

never take the easy path to what may seem like rest."

His head broke the surface, moonlight gleaming all around. "Never give up," he
breathed, striking out for the shoreline. A breaker crashed over him, sending him
into a large rock before washing him up on the beach. He lay there gasping for air,
thinking possibly a rib was broken. Gingerly, he sat up, holding his right side. He

could see the outline of the shelter in the distance, some sort of light flickering
in its window. Biting his lip, he got to his feet and headed there, his palm pressed
tightly to his ribcage.

 
Soundlessly, he approached the window, determined to discover the source of the

strange light. Sid sat on the cot, Brianna between his legs, her back propped against

his chest. Maximus blushed slightly, hating the fact of his peering into their quarters

like some scurvy spy. But then his attention was grabbed by a small box, a square,

lighted panel on its front. The light was coming from that. Sound was coming from it,

too. He stared, wide-eyed as the forms of men and women, horses and wagons, fire

and destruction moved across the panel.

"Oh, Miss Scarlett, Miss Scarlett, I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies!" Sid
mocked in a squeaky voice.

Maximus stepped back from the window, wiping his hand across his eyes. What in the

name of all the gods was THAT? As he backed, he tripped over a small crate and fell

backwards, landing hard on his back. Pain from his side shot through him and he let

out a small cry, instantly stifled. But Sid had heard and the door flew open, both he

and Brianna rushing outside.

"You?" Sid said, startled to find the General lying flat so close to the shelter.

"I am sorry," Maximus said, trying to gain his feet. "I did not see the small box."

A grimace flashed on his face as he moved, his hand going to his side.

"You're hurt?" Brianna said, stepping toward him.

He was on his feet now, backing away. "It is nothing. Nothing to concern yourself

with, my La...Brianna." He turned, striding rapidly toward the headland.

Brianna looked after him then turned to study the open window. "Do you suppose he

saw the television?"

"Quite possibly," Sid replied. "His...curiosity...may be aroused." Then he smiled at her.
"You are too lovely for words here in the moonlight. Scarlett pales beside you."

"I think he was hurt," Brianna commented, ignoring his words.

Sid frowned slightly. Damn the man. How long would Brianna still be entangled in his

web? "I'm sure he's fine. Probably just knocked the breath out of himself when he

tripped over the crate. Come. Let's go back inside. We can't have Atlanta burn without

us."

Once inside, he shuttered the window and pulled her back down onto the bed with

him.

It took Maximus longer to pass the edges of the headland and get back to his sea cave.

Before he sat on his shelf, he unbuckled his wide belt, raised it a bit, and rebuckled

it tightly over his ribs. Then he lay carefully down, not stoking up his fire for the

night.

The moon rose, disappeared over the island, the cave filling with darkness, deep and

quiet but for the sound of the surf in the distance.  He didn't sleep, but lay there

replaying what he'd seen on Sid's box. A man driving a large wagon past burning

buildings. Two or three women with him, his horses rearing in fear. It had looked so...
real. How could such a thing be in a box? And they were talking. He'd heard their

voices, the sound of the flames and the horses. Sid and Brianna both seemed to find it

entirely unremarkable.

The depth of just how much he was out of his time washed over him, drowning him

more surely than the waves. He spread his fingers wide, combing them up through his

hair, leaving them curled over the top of his head, blowing out his breath in short,

sharp puffs.

Sometime toward morning he slept, but in his dreams he fell, fell endlessly, his hands

grasping, clutching for some purchase on something...anything...to stop his plummet.

But there was nothing. He jerked awake, covered in sweat, consumed by the need to

know what that box was.

No food had passed his lips for a full day now, but eating was far from his mind. He

walked toward the cave entrance, each step causing a sharp pain. Ignoring that as

well as his hunger, he went to the thickest area of palms close to the shelter and waited.

Soon Sid came out, heading inland. Maximus circled around, followed parallel to the

path, stepping out into sight when Sid reached a small clearing.

"The box," he said without preamble. "What sort of box is that?"

Sid smiled just a bit. Ah, so the General had seen the TV. "It's called a television."

That meant nothing to Maximus. "How does the light form pictures?"

"I'm afraid it's all very complicated. I have no idea how to explain it to you in terms

you could begin to understand."

Maximus rubbed his hand back and forth across his chin and mouth. "I am no

simpleton, Sid."

"Oh, I grant you that, General. It is only that you are from 180 and this is 2007. Many

years have passed and things have...changed...greatly changed. Think about how many

years that is, how much time there has been for mankind to come up with new ways

of doing things."

Maximus sighed, dropping his hand. "Did you not say this was 1243?"

Sid laughed. "Right, I did! And it is. But the 'box' I brought with me from 2007."

He eyed the General carefully, noting how he was favoring his right side as he stood.

"You are curious about my 'box', then?"

Maximus nodded silently.

"You would like to see it for yourself?"

Again he nodded.

Sid's mind was racing. Should he? Would the General be able to handle it? He cocked

one eyebrow. "Brianna has gone for a few hours to gather flowers to plant around our

little abode. Women. You know how they like such things. Anyway, if you would like, I

could show you the box...now."

Maximus nodded assent and followed Sid soundlessly back to the shelter. He'd only

been inside once before, to lay Sid on the cot after his collapse in the jungle. Sid gestured

toward a small chair and Maximus sat, reluctantly, uncomfortably. Sid's fingers were

flipping through a small pile of flat boxes.

"Ah, here it is," he smiled, opening one and taking out a small circular object. "This is

called a DVD, General, and it is what...causes...the pictures to form on my box...my

television. I just slide it right in here and push a couple of buttons...and...."

He sat quickly where he could see Maximus' face. The screen filled with a boy, sitting

in a crescent moon, fishing. Maximus pressed his lips together tightly, his eyes looking

almost unblinkingly at the lighted panel. Then everything went amber, music swelled,

and words formed, words that spoke of things familiar to him, of Rome and Germania

and Marcus Aurelius.   His lips parted and he sucked in a long breath.   A hand

appeared, brushing over the tops of ripe grain. He rubbed his fingertips with his thumb 

pad, almost able to feel the tickle of the wheat. Then he was there. There in the box.

His lips parted, his breathing ceased. The robin. It was the robin he'd seen before...

before...."

He began to shake. In the box he was watching the bird take flight. It was a moment

directly out of his life, out of his memory. "How...?" He turned his head toward Sid,

who pressed the pause button.

"How did you get in the box?"

He nodded mutely, turning his head back toward the television. Sid let it play again

and Maximus saw himself walking across the muddy flats toward his troops. "You...

you...have my memories in the box?"

"No," Sid said. "Well, not really. That's simply...you...in the box. It's who you really

are."

Maximus' mouth squared, his teeth showing. "I am here! Here! Not in some box!"

"You are here, General, because I brought you here. I took you out of the box and

brought you here."

"None of this makes any sense!" Maximus spat. "How can I be here AND in the box?"

"You are only in the box when I put your DVD in it, General. But the essence of you

now exists out of the box entirely."

Maximus closed his eyes. "No," he said quietly. "None of this is so."

"Watch, General. Watch and see."

Maximus opened his eyes, sitting unmoving as his life played out before his eyes. He

had never actually seen Commodus kill Marcus before and his hands tightened into

fists. He had also never seen his son run down by Praetorian horses. Tears tracked

freely down his cheeks as he watched, but he didn't speak. He simply sat there stone-like.

When it came to the point where he was running through the tunnel, Sid paused it again.

"This is as far as you got before I took you out. Do you wish to stop here?"

Maximus shook his head 'no'.

"Very well," Sid replied, looking at him intently. "But it may be a bit hard for you

to watch."

So Maximus sat there, seeing his death for the first time, seeing the full circle of his

story, seeing his reunion with his family. It was right. He knew the rightness of it, knew

that that was where he had been headed all along. But. Yes...but. He had been removed,

taken before the completion of his journey. He felt like a stump, sitting there, the mere

stump of a giant tree whose trunk and branches had been hewn from him. He was no

longer who he was supposed to be, was meant to be.

And Sid, because of all of Maximus that he contained,...understood. "I'm sorry," he

said, putting a hand on Maximus' shoulder. "At the time I didn't...know. Didn't know

what it would be like for you. I...."

Maximus brushed the hand away. "Can I get back? Can I get back...in? Where I belong.

Can I finish what I was supposed to do?"

"No, I'm afraid not, General. You are who you were at the point you left."

"I did not leave, Sid," he growled. "I was...removed."

Then a further thought intruded. "Is this...real? All that I saw in the box, is it real?"

"No, it's not, General," Sid sighed. "It's only a story...like in a book or scroll...except

that you can see and hear it."

Lights were flashing behind Maximus' eyes, sharp, pointed things were being thrust

through his brain. "It is my...life, Sid. Not some story."

Sid blew out a long breath. "Do you remember Cort? Well, wait just a moment. Let me

show you something else." He searched for another DVD, popped it in and fast forwarded

to the point where Cort was thrown through the saloon doors and almost hanged. Though

he was dressed differently, Maximus recognized the young Arizonian.   "Did you not

wonder how other men could look so like you do, General? Well, this is how. You have

the same...source. Were made by the same man." He ejected The Quick and the Dead and

slid in Virtuosity, forwarding to a scene of himself on the giant computer screen.

"That's me, General. I was in the box, too. I understand. Only in my story I found a way

to get out of my box and then I discovered how to do it for...real. To take myself out of

my story...completely out...completely free of it...to go on and make it all new, all...

unwritten. Just to live." Suddenly he wanted Maximus to understand. "When we were

in the box, we lived the same story over and over and over. I can put your DVD back in

and start from the beginning and you will be looking at the robin again. I can do that
as many times as I like and each time you will be looking at the same robin and at the

end you will die, over and over and over. Only when you are in the box, you don't realize

that. Each time is like the first, the only time for you, but it's not. It's not." He looked

almost helplessly at Maximus. "Do you understand at all?"

He didn't. Not really. He picked up the Gladiator DVD. "This...thing. It has my life on

it?" The concept was more than he could understand. He simply...was. He KNEW that!

"Look!" Sid cried, sliding in Proof of Life. "This is the centurion you saw in Zucchabar.

He's one of us. And there are others. Many others. But not all of them are out of the

box yet. Only six." Maximus stood, an odd expression on his face. "It's why we all look

so much alike, Maximus. Can't you see that?" Sid's tone was almost begging. "Can't

you?"

"You...and I? The same?" Maximus' lips were widely parted. Sid nodded and Maximus

closed his eyes tightly. This was madness. Nothing less than madness. Opening his eyes,

he looked at Sid. "No," he said quietly, simply, then walked out the door, heading for

his cave.

He barely made it around the headland. The tide was in and every inch was a struggle,

though he scarcely noticed. Once he'd gained his little, private cove, he stood staring

at the sea. Then his knees buckled and he fell sideways, lying there, breathing very

shallowly, heedless of a small crab that scrabbled by mere inches from his face.

ON TO PART 22

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